Thomas had done his work. The demonic taint that had lingered, affecting all it came across, was gone as far as he and his powerful Hero's senses could tell. Something still nagged at him all the same.

The people he had talked to, and the path he had tread back to this point had only gotten more and more faint. There was nothing more now.

He stood in the catacombs of Istan's most ancient temple. The remains of the Healing Goddess's first followers were buried outside of this room. The various tunnels and sarcophagi arrayed in a pattern that was now very familiar to him. The Ritual of Cleansing still functioned.

It was subtle, and the gentle waves of it pure and refined. The spirits of her ancient followers lingered here in some manner, like bobbing lanterns to his mystic sight, each providing strange phantom light as long as he kept pouring mana into Hero's Magic Sense.

There was a darkened patch of stone near him where a priestess was thought to have mortally wounded before being dragged away, and further away there was the final hint of the darkness he had been chasing down. He knew now he was going to the origin point instead of following the mysterious figure. He would have to double back and find some trace he missed. That or wait for the killer and demon to show themselves again.

He mastered his anger, and summoned his patience.

Hurried footsteps came the way he had come only some time before.

“Thomas!” A familiar voice panted.

Her voice brought back seemingly ancient memories though in reality it had not been so long ago that he had seen and spoke with her. He had just seen and done so much since then. He felt tired, and annoyed. He had ordered that no one come down here. His temper wanted release, but he remembered what he had last done with it, and dismissed it entirely. He would not entertain that kind of brutality within his own mind. There was too much of it in the world already.

The city above him had been in ruin. The temple itself, once glorious, and proud; its rooms open to any seeking boon against sickness had been leveled in the battle between the Gods. Istania had fought to defend her patients to the end. Her people had fought and though the reports claimed a quick victory it wasn't for lack of casualties.

The army that had come here had been quickly replaced by less veteran units, not to relieve entitled professional troops as was thought by many soldiers and officers, but to quickly replace losses. Istania's followers, at least the ones near the capital of Istan, had felt their Goddess's death...and went mad. Now that Thomas was in Command he knew the truth, but no one had an answer yet for what had caused that bloody and final uprising.

Despite looking elsewhere however only here did Thomas find any corruption, obviously he had not expected much here in the focus of the Ritual of Cleansing, but there was no trace of any corruption like he had been following whatsoever in the city. It was so strange. He thought for sure he would have found something, but there was just this single trail, and it ended here.

“Thomas!” The voice said again, coming close to him.

The owner of the voice was panting, and sweating, her Priestess of Light's robes stained by travel and her hair disorganized. Thomas took but a moment to recognize her.

“Ana?” He asked, his voice tired, but relieved.

Anastasia's face broke into a smile, and she readily approached his open arms. The two were old friends of a kind. They never got to spend the time together that they wanted, but whenever they had the time to meet and talk they had always 'clicked' as some said.

Thomas reflected the strength of her hug as closely as he dared. Ana made a soft sound of relief into his neck and chest.

“Finally I caught up with you. I've been everywhere.” She complained.

Thomas sighed gratefully in the hug. Neither of them were letting go.

“It's good to see you well and safe Ana. I've seen so much death and ruin here.” Thomas immediately admitted.

Ana nodded and pressed her cheek into his.

“I know. It's horrible, but there's still those who can be saved. We can stop this madness. Already you've done so much. Changing out the guard and bringing the people back into their homes instead of those awful camps...I can't even say how much that has helped things. The people were already furious, and those camps...” She sighed and squeezed him with all of her strength.

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Thomas bore her stress happily and took comfort in being so near a friend. Finally, he drew away a little. Ana came away with grace and smiled at him happily.

She didn't say anything at first, but touched his face and hair a little. She tucked a loose strand away here, and wiped sweat with her handkerchief there. Thomas let the gentle touch of his friends’ ministrations ease his own stress and troubles. When she was finished he spoke.

“You've come looking for me? What is so troubling you'd come running to me instead of the Order of Light?” He asked, a slightly dry tone in his voice.

She understood his meaning and smiled at him again.

“There's trouble of course, but I got a hold of the first command I could manage and went to the Old Parish up in the hills. I--” She started to explain and had to cover her mouth before a sob escaped.

Thomas offered her a hand, and she took it, gripping his fingers tightly.

“I went there to see what our forces had done. What I found was worse than I imagined.”

Thomas's heart ached with sudden fear and sorrow. He didn't have long to wait.

“Mother Melda, Father Julian...little Ral...Jen...My—My... family....” Ana said, her voice breaking apart as she spoke.

Ugly tears streamed down her face even as she fought desperately to keep them back. Hidden pains surfaced in her emotions, as clear and obvious as her tears to Thomas's Insight.

He stepped forward and took her in another embrace. This one was longer as his old friend let out the tears she had kept at bay. When she had let out enough to pull away and stand on her own again he let her be and master herself.

“Did they let any of the orphans survive?” Thomas asked coldly.

The question pained Ana, but she eventually answered by shaking her head roughly.

“Did anyone survive?” Thomas asked, his heart aching and tired.

To his surprise a tiny ray of hope shone through the dark sadness surrounding Ana. When she looked up she was smiling. It was a worried smile, but a hopeful one.

“Ivan did. Of course Ivan would. He was always such a crybaby, but he--” She hesitated, and the light of conflicted hope flickered somewhere in her eyes and distantly in the sullen cloud of emotions about her. “He fought...” Was all she could say.

“Ivan?” Thomas asked, remembering the boy who had beaten not only him, but the local military commander in tournament duels what felt like ages ago with recent events weighing so heavily on Thomas’s mind; but in truth, once again, had only been about two years.

Thomas remembered his grin, his boyish handsomeness, and the obvious affection he had for everyone around him. He had been a Knight in Job and spirit, and the Jobs of Warrior and Fighter both failed to encompass his natural talent in a fight. More than that he was a gentle soul who knew the names of every flower, and carried a will to heal and help that was only out matched by the Goddess he idolized. A scene came to mind of Ivan teaching the sword to his two squires, practicing, teaching, and leading them to live their best lives as servants of the Goddess of Healing as he had been taught.

There was someone else there in the memory. Ivan's closest friend. One of which Thomas had never seen the boy be apart from. A plainly pretty girl. One who's smile contained her real beauty. Her name came to mind from the depths of his memory, likely added by the huge bonuses to Thomas's attributes his Hero Job gave him.

“Tanya?” He asked.

Ana's face crumpled and a few tears fled her eyes down still damp stream beds cut through the dust of travel that littered her face. That reaction told Thomas more than enough.

“He must feel so alone.” Thomas commented softly.

“I've been trying to find him, but no one has seen or heard from him. I'm afraid he's in one of the camps, but there was no record of arrest. His sword and old gear are gone, and his horse too, but I think the soldiers who attacked the parish cut all the animals free. I've looked everywhere I've been, but there's no sign of him.” Ana said, almost frantic in her explanation.

Thomas took her by the shoulders and nodded as she spoke. She shook a little, but then sagged gently against the touch of his arms. She took a few breaths and calmed.

“If they attacked...in that manner...Ivan is smart enough to not use his real name. He knew the forest well, and could probably contest a ranger for how long he could stay in the wild. We'll find him. It will just take time. Just like so many things lately he probably won't be in great shape. So we'll have to be there for him.” Thomas told Ana.

She nodded, and gripped both of his hands by his wrists.

“For now though let's get you settled. After those tears you're looking a little worse for wear.”

Ana laughed; it was a pleasant and hopeful sound. She retrieved her handkerchief again and wiped her own face quickly. Thomas took the cloth from her gently, and retrieved his own water bottle.

Ana blushed slightly as he stepped forward and washed her face.

Thomas smiled at her sadly, but said little until the work was done.

“I could use your help Ana. I need a friend right now.” Thomas said, and regretted the words slightly. She could misunderstand his meaning.

She did momentarily misunderstand, perhaps inevitably, as his Hero's charisma attribute charmed many women, but knew him well enough to not act as though he meant anything suggestive. Though her face did grow a shade deeper in color.

“Of course. You're probably under a lot of stress. Maybe dinner and some more time to talk will settle you. I know I'm never myself when I'm hungry and being stressed always makes me more so.” She said with a gentle, and slightly nervous laugh.

Thomas smiled in return and nodded.

“That would be ideal I think. And you're right. I haven't been eating enough lately...its just that some things...”

“I know. Some things make it hard to want to sit down and just take care of yourself.” She said soberly, but then suddenly brightened. “So that's why we take care of each other.” She said with a slightly guilty grin.

Thomas shared her smile again. She had very nearly quoted a passage from Istania's first teachings. 'Everyone grows tired and needs help. It's those times when it's best to help one another.' Such simple words, but Istania's teaching were all like that. She wasn't a poet or sophisticated Lord. She was more like a tired woman who had maybe brought a few too many children into her home. She was...distracted, but always kind and always kept on.

-And she never grew angry.